


With Tender Loving Care

by Silly_Tilly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Freeform, Friendship, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Self-Hatred, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silly_Tilly/pseuds/Silly_Tilly
Summary: Draco hates himself, he hates his life and most of all he hates Harry bloody Potter.All that might change when he finds himself back at Hogwarts for his final year.   Can Harry help Draco learn to love himself again?It's been a difficult summer for everyone but with a bit of TLC from Ron and Hermione, Harry has made it through.  Now he's ready to share the love starting with his former arch nemesis Malloy.





	1. Draco

It was late summer. The three of them were lazing under a cherry tree in the school grounds. The sun shining through the leaves threw a dappled shadow pattern across them as they lazed. On Monday lessons would begin again, but for now they were free, the war was over and everything was peaceful.

 

This was how I saw them again for the first time since my trial. My Mother had brought me back that Sunday  The so called ‘8th Year’ students had been invited to return over the preceding week, I however, had arrived at the last possible moment. I had dumped my trunk in my single room attached to a communal 8th year common room, and fled the castle to get some distance from other students by taking a walk in the school grounds. Ironically that led me straight into the three people I most wanted to distance myself from. 

 

Grainger lay on her back, her feet flat to the floor, knees in the air. Her head resting in her boyfriends lap, loose chestnut brown curls fanned out behind her. As usual she had her nose in a book. Knowing Grainger, she was probably halfway through the reading list for the year already.  Weasley was gently running his fingers through her hair, occasionally playing with the coils twisting them around his fingers. She shot him little smiles from time to time which went unseen because Weasley’s eyes were closed, his head resting back against his best friend Potter’s chest. Potter was resting with his back against the tree, Weasley between his legs. One of Potter’s arms circled the redhead’s waist, the other hand, fingers entwined with those of Grainger’s free hand.  Potter’s face was buried in the mop of red curls, a look of Bliss on his face. 

 

When I think of them now, this is how I remember them. The three of them sharing an intimate moment.  Three beautiful bodies sharing one space. Perhaps one of the most innocently erotic sights I have ever seen.

 

As I watched, Grainger withdrew her hand to turn the pages of her book and Potter raised his hand in front of him.  Small sparks of light in rainbow colours sparked around his fingers coalescing into a sphere of swirling light in his palm which he twisted and turned as he stared at it.

 

Suddenly he froze and before I could move, his head turned towards me, green eyes catching mine. Recognition but no surprise showed in them, the expected malice was missing and instead of an angry shout or a hex, he just turned his head back and returned his hand to Grainger’s.  There was no acknowledgement of my presence at all. Somehow that hurt more.

 

Shocked, I turned and slunk back into the shadows, where I belonged. The memory of those green eyes seemed to burn into me.

 

My obsession with Harry Potter started before I ever met him. All the wizarding world knew about ‘The boy who lived’ and at 11 years old, in my arrogance, I was certain that I would have him as my best friend. And Draco Malloy always got what he wanted. But I didn't get him then, nor did I get him at 15 when I first kissed Blaise and shut my eyes and thought of Potter. Not at 17 or 18 when the obsession firmly took hold and my love and hatred for him consumed me and almost ended me. 

 

It's as though a cruel trick has been played. For all my blonde hair and fair skin, I stand in the darkness. Beautiful Potter with his tanned skin and black hair, is light and hope and all that is good in the world. And I still want him,  but these days Malfoy’s don't get what they want. 

 

I was dreading the formal start of school the next day. Lessons wouldn't be so bad. I've always loved learning and in some ways I'm the same as Grainger in that respect.  I wasn't looking forward to free time and meals. Slytherins are not popular since the end of the war, Malfoy’s even less. I wouldn't have any allies here. My friends had either opted not to return this year,  or were in Azkaban, or dead. Most people thought that my Mother and I should be in Azkaban too, or dead, like my father. It's only thanks to three grace of the Saviour that I wasn't, that I was here, back at Hogwarts. I hated him despite how much I needed him.

 

My mind wandered back to the three of them, laying together under the cherry tree, and to Potter's magic sphere of light. With a jump I realised that he hadn't used his wand to summon it. Wandless magic. That's a skill that most adult wizards never master.

 

As I made my way back to the castle I thought about the last time I had seen Potter.  He had spoken in favour of me at my trial, and then in favour of my Mother. Afterwards I had grabbed him in the hallway outside and thanked him, and I had meant it. 

 

The 8th year common room was noisy with chatter as I entered but as the faces of my fellow students looked up at me a quiet fell across them. I stood for a moment, paralysed by their stares until I gathered the courage to walk across the room and up the stairs which led to the boys rooms and shared bathroom. 

 

When I got to my room my legs gave out and I sunk to the bed, my breathing was quick and my head dizzy. I sank back onto the bed and closed my eyes,  giving in to the waves of panic.

 

I don't know how long I stayed there in the darkest of places before a persistent knocking on my door forced me off the bed.

 

“What?” I yelled at the door.

 

“It's Harry, Let me in"

 

What the hell did the golden boy want. “Fuck off, Potter” I shouted back.  Wanting the all the world to just leave me alone, but especially him.

 

“Draco, I'm not leaving until you let me in"

 

“I'm naked in here" I lied.

 

“I can wait" came the reply.

 

I sighed I wasn't going to get rid of him, no one was more tenacious than Potter. I yanked the door open and he almost tumbled into my room.

 

“Hi” he stumbled, and then looked at me. “you don't look very naked" he raised an eyebrow.  “If I didn't know better I would think you were trying to get rid of me"

 

“Why would I do that?" I said dryly “What do you want Potter?”

 

“Look, I get the feeling it's not going to be easy for you here,” his feet shuffled as he stared at them. 

 

“Thank you, for pointing out the bloody obvious"

 

“I think I could help"

 

“I don't need your help" I snapped back at him.  Irritated because Harry bloody Potter always needs to save everyone. “And why on earth would you help me?”

 

“Look" he repeated “You don't have a lot of friends here now, but I would like to try getting to know you a bit.  I think we could be friends"

 

“Oh, and what would you get out of this arrangement?” I asked him

 

“Do I need to be benefiting somehow to want to be your friend?”

 

I just stared at him

 

“Fine, let's just say you owe me one"

 

“On top of everything else I already owe you?” was my sarcastic reply.

 

“Right Malfoy, you owe me a life debt, you might as well start with being friends".

 

“You sanctimonious twat" I shoved him “ get out of my room"

 

“Fine" he spat, turned on his heels and left. I slammed the door behind him and collapsed on the bed shaking.

 

When I had calmed down I began to organise my clothes and books. I laid out my school robes for the next morning.   Plain black. No house colours for the 8th year students. No houses, there weren't enough of us returned for that. By the time I had finished the was just time for a quick shower before falling into bed.

 

My night time routine followed.  My own hand pulling at myself until I achieved an unsatisfactory release, a sleeping draft to help keep away the nightmares and the sound of waves crashing playing on my wand.  Sleep finally claimed me.

 

I was laying in the sun, shirtless. My head in Potter's lap as I had seen Grainger’s in Weasleys. He was stroking his hand across my chest and gazing at me as if I were something precious and fragile. It felt like home.  I closed my eyes and felt the sun warm on my bare skin, I started to doze as the beating sun became hotter and hotter. The smell of burning oak hit my senses and I started to cough as smoke filled my lungs. I opened my eyes to find fire surrounding me. 

 

“Draco” Potter yelled at me “Draco".  He was shaking me and the look in his eyes had morphed into fear. 

 

“Draco, your having a nightmare" I looked at the room around me, the piles of books,  the robes laid out on the desk. “Fire" I gasped.

 

“Shh you're okay" Potter climbed up onto the bed next to me “ Your okay now” he encircled him in his arms rocking me as I clung to him. “I've got you, you're safe." It felt like home. 

 

It was 5 o'clock when I next woke. Potter had shifted in his sleep and thrown his arm across my chest. The weight of it pressing against me felt comforting.  I wasn't expecting him to be in my bed and for a little while I relaxed into the feeling of him, assuming that I wasn't really awake. It wasn't until I realised that I needed a piss that It twigged that he was really here with me.  I tried to ignore the need, but eventually the pull of my bladder became too much and I carefully extracted myself from Potter and padded down the corridor to the bathroom. 

 

When I returned to my room I realised there was a problem.  With Potter sprawled across my bed, I would either have to make a conscious decision to re-entangle myself in him, or make alternative arrangements. Sighing quietly I grabbed my towel and returned to the bathroom for a shower.  At least at this stupidly early hour I would have it to myself.

 

The heat of the water felt amazing on my skin and as I dropped my head forward to let the water run over my hair, I closed my eyes and tried to recapture the feeling of Potter pressed against me in my bed.  Warmth, safety, arousal. Arousal, a definite pull in my abdomen, a definite response from my cock. As I put my hand around my growing erection I consoled myself with the thought that this would hardly be the first time I had masturbated thinking of Potter. It didn't take long before I came against the wall of the shower stall, quickly followed by the usual feeling of self disgust.

 

Turning off the water I pulled the towel around my waist and returned to my room.  My bed was empty, Potter gone and I wondered if he had ever really been there at all  
  



	2. Harry

The summer after Voldemort had been defeated was hard. It was hard for everyone. For Hermionie whose parents hadn't really come to terms with what she had done to them, for Ron and Ginny who were dealing with the grief of losing a brother, and for me.   
  
I was alone. Ginny and I had broken up before the end of the war and although I missed her I knew that getting back together would be a mistake. Both of us were a bit broken and neither of us had the strength to support the other through it.   
  
I was more literally broken too. A part of what I had always thought belonged to me had been destroyed. A dark, twisted part for sure, but it's loss was noticeable and I perversely missed it. In some ways I think the fight to overcome the evil inside me is what had always driven me to be the hero, to feel responsibility for writing the wrongs. Without it I couldn't be sure who I was anymore.   
  
I was alone. Initially I had thought I would stay at the Burrow, I had always felt at my happiest there, and although The Weasley had welcomed me with open arms I had quickly felt that I was intruding on their grief.   
  
That's how I ended up spending my summer at 12 Grimmauld place. I had nowhere else to go. Of course for the first weeks I was busy. I attended a number of trials of former death eaters. Memorably Lucius Malfoy's trial which everyone remembered for the lapse in security which allowed him to grab someone's wand and cast Avada Kedavra, the killing curse. I can still remember the flash of green as he collapsed, still screaming about pure-blood supremacy, a lifeless heap surrounded by the chaos of people running and yelling. The memory of the terror and grief on Draco Malfoy's face as he watched his father die will stay burned into my brain forever.  I've never seen him look so vulnerable, clutching at his mother as she screamed. Someone tugged me away. I'm the Savior, I stand for hope for the future and my safety cannot be risked. Still nothing but a tool for people to use.    
  
After that I stopped leaving the house, then I stopped leaving my bed. Kreacher actually became so concerned about me that he contacted Ron and Hermione and asked them to come and stay with me.   
  
Actually it was great to see Ron and Hermione. I'd been dreading their arrival, worried that they couldn't love the shell of a man that I had become, but it wasn't like that at all. Hermione immediately began to fuss over me and make sure I ate properly. Ron kept my mind away from the bad places by talking about Quidditch or playing Chess with me, which he always won. None of us spoke about the war or the future. We existed in a little bubble of our own, the only way we could find to survive. I'm sure that's when I began to heal and to forgive and understand.    
  
All three of us had our nightmares and although we each had our own bedroom it became common to find Ron and Hermione curled around each other each night, seeking comfort from each other’s warm presence in the bed. At night time I felt as alone as ever and during the day I could see them both glancing at me with concern.    
  
One night, when the dreams were particularly I woke screaming. Ron and Hermione came running through to me and I sat up in my bed.    
  
"Harry?" Hermione looked at me, love and worry in her eyes. Ron sat next to me on the bed. A looked passed between them, a raise of Hermione's eyebrows in question to Ron and a short almost imperceptible not in reply. “We're staying with you tonight, no Harry, don't argue. Ron and I love you and we've talked about this. We want to give you as much comfort as we can”.

 

I nodded in acquiescence. There was no point in arguing with Hermione when she had her mind set on something and in truth the thought of them staying with me was comforting beyond words.

 

So Hermione climbed into my bed next to me, her back pressed against my chest, and pulled my arm around me.  Ron got in behind me and put a heavy arm over me. Hermione made a small contented squeak and Ron pushed his face into my hair.  That's how the three us fell asleep that night, and that's how I woke.

 

Of course waking up with a girl pushing her arse against my groin came with its own problem, not helped when she began to wake up and make more of the small contented squeaks that she had the previous night.  I was mortified at the thought that there was very little chance she couldn't feel my morning erection pressing into her. What I wasn't expecting was for her to giggle and grind herself back against me.

 

“Hermione!” I exclaimed. 

 

“Mmm” she murmured in a sleepy moan as I tried unsuccessfully to move away from her.

 

“Don't bother mate” Came the deep voice from behind me. “She's always horny as hell in the mornings “

 

It seemed the noises she was making were having an effect on Ron too.  He was definitely suffering the same morning problem as I was, and as I tried to move away from Hermione I accidentally pushed back against Ron's erection. It twitched against me and Ron moaned.  

 

“Merlin, Harry” Ron gasped and I quickly stuttered and apology as my face burned red. “Don't apologise, mate, Look ‘Mione” and I have talked about this and she feels close to you, she loves you, and I suppose I do too”  Ron's hand started to shyly trace circles on my waist. “If you're up for it?”.

 

All I could do was stutter. It sounded like Ron was offering to share his girlfriend with me. That couldn't be right.  Merlin, but it was tempting. Hermione was beautiful and full of vitality and we had become very close during our time camping together.   I would have never admitted it, but there had been times when I had been tempted to take her in my arms and make her mine.

 

“Let me show you what she likes”. Ron put his hand over mine and moved it so it was cupping Hermione's breast.  She was firm and warm. I could feel the hardness of her nipple pushing into my palm. I groaned as a bolt of desire shot straight through me to my cock.  Hermione giggled again and Ron tightened his hand over mine so that I was squeezing Hermione gently.

 

“Harry” she gasped, “Please” as Ron took his away and left me in control. He snaked his arm between Hermione and Me, and I felt his hand stroke my erection before he encircled my cock in his large hand and started to slowly move up and down it's length.

 

“I've never done this before” I told them, gasping.  “Ginny and I…..” 

 

Ron made a strangled noise and stilled.  “Please don't mention what you did with my sister when I have your dick in my hand, it might not end well for you”

 

I couldn't help it, that made me laugh loudly and I was relieved to hear Ron chuckle behind me.  

 

“Ron, are you sure this is okay?” I asked, still squeezing Hermione's tit in my hand, pausing to pinch her nipple occasionally and loving the gasped responses she issued.

 

“I've got you Harry, don't worry, Ready ‘Mione?”

 

Hermione pushed her arse back and Ron guided my hard cock into her wetness.  I shifted us so that I had both of my arms wrapped around her, both of my hands on her tits, pulling at her nipples and making her moan loudly.  Behind me Ron sat up and pulled down the bed covers so that he could see his girlfriend impaled from behind on his best friends rock hard dick. I was so turned on that I almost came before I even started moving in her. 

 

When I finally started rocking into her it was the most amazing sensation I had ever experienced.  All of the feeling of my body was concentrated in my dick and balls, and I felt as if I would combust with the feel of it.  

 

Ron had moved around the bed to stand in front of us, watching and stroking himself firmly and oh God, he threw his head back and moaned as he came in spurts across Hermione and Me.  I felt the muscles in my legs tighten and tingle as I watched him, my ball tightening until I too came spilling into Hermione sending a thrill down my spine, ending in my toes. 

 

I pulled out, partly shell shocked at what I had just done but also warm and sated. I watched as Ron rolled Hermione onto her back and put his head between her legs, lapping at her until she came with a yell.

 

Afterwards we showered together, dressed together and ate breakfast together.   Every night that Summer we would all curl up in bed together at night and wake up in the morning and have sex, and When Hermione decided she wanted to go back to Hogwarts and finish her N.E.W.Ts it seemed obvious we would all go together. 


End file.
